


Sow This Bliss

by silverfoxflower



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26803135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfoxflower/pseuds/silverfoxflower
Summary: Written for Kinktober 2020, Day 3: Orgasm Denial, and the prompt:Since arousal would potentially be distracting for a witcher, they are trained out of it. This involves training them to associate orgasms with pain. While Geralt can still become aroused from enough stimulation, he has never been able to come, his body always expecting it to be painful.Geralt confesses this to Jaskier, who naturally wants to help him. Cue Jaskier edging Geralt until Geralt is so lost in pleasure that he doesn't have to coherency to think about pain when Jaskier finally allows him to come.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 29
Kudos: 519





	Sow This Bliss

Jaskier moaned piteously as Geralt pulled out of his ass, still hard. 

Jaskier was sprawled upon the camp blanket like a wanton, sweat-slick and covered in his own spend, his hole twitching and swollen and _greedy_. 

But Geralt was kneeling facing away from him, the muscles in his back flexed iron-hard. When Jaskier reached for him, he flinched away. 

"You can confess," Jaskier said, forcing levity in his tone though his chest was aching. "Your body is not made for men. I cannot blame you for that." Thrice, they had fucked since Jaskier's lips were loose enough to confess his hopeless love. Amazingly, Geralt had responded with a hesitant kiss, and it felt like a dream too sweet to be true. _Was_ too sweet to be true, Jaskier thought miserably, staring up at the night-darkening sky strung through with clouds. It was thrice that Geralt had fucked him, sucked him, fondled Jaskier until he had trembled and drooled and come apart in Geralt's hands. And thrice that Geralt had pulled from Jaskier's limp, wanting body without his own ecstasy. 

"It's not that." Geralt said. He turned, and Jaskier could see his profile. There was a dark expression on his face, and ... shame. "I want you but I ..." 

"Is it physical?" Jaskier pressed himself to Geralt's back, looking over his shoulder. Geralt's cock was bobbing on his lap in blush-angry red, thick with veins. In unconscious sympathy, Jaskier winced. "They have potions for that." 

Geralt shook his head, his mouth set in grim lines, and Jaskier knew he was about to lose this thread, that Geralt would stomp off somewhere to sulk and when he came back it would have been like this never happened. So Jaskier employed the best distraction technique he knew, turning Geralt to face him with a hand on his shoulder, and pulling him into a kiss.

Geralt, Jaskier had learned, was weak to kisses. 

It was a funny thing, objectively, a strong, gruff Witcher going to putty for such simple affection, but there it was. Geralt sighed softly into Jaskier's mouth, and Jaskier could feel his stiffness melting as he pushed Jaskier back onto the blanket, thrusting between Jaskier's thighs absently as Jaskier linked his ankles behind Geralt's back. 

_"I can't_ ," Geralt groaned, as Jaskier trailed his hands down Geralt's thicket of chest hair, down to his hard, twitching cock. "It'll _hurt_."

"Well that's not how that usually goes." Jaskier said, but he moved his hands to Geralt's neck and shoulders, soothing him as he pressed his face into Jaskier's shoulder, sounding all the while like he was in pain.

\--

"They trained us ..." Geralt refused to say anymore, leaving it up to Jaskier's imagination to imagine the physical and psychological torture that had been inflicted on the Witchers to force them to abandon the one control of their bodies they had the right to. 

Jaskier kissed Geralt a lot that night, pulling him close as if his spindly bard frame would be able to protect Geralt from anything that might hurt him. If Geralt could detect Jaskier's sadness for him, he did not address it, answering Jaskier's affections hungrily, like a flower turning to the sun. 

\--

Jaskier's plan only solidified when they arrived in Novigrad. 

"I have some errands to run, love. I'll meet you at the inn," Jaskier said loftily, parting from Geralt at the town square. Though Geralt squinted at him with suspicion, he made no move to stop him. 

A teeming metropolis, Novigrad had no shortage of stores carrying the products Jaskier sought - even if he had to go to the red-light district to procure them. He had so much fun shopping, in fact, that it was near-dark when he made it back to the inn.

Geralt was already in the room when Jaskier arrived, sitting before a startling array of blades, potions and Witcher equipment. "You're late," he grunted, looking apprehensively at the velvet satchel Jaskier was holding. 

"For no ill reason, I assure you." Jaskier said, stepping gingerly over Geralt's assembled weaponry to plant a soft kiss on his lips. 

"You smell like a brothel." Geralt said sulkily, but submitted to the kissing, his fingers sinking into Jaskier's velvet doublet and twisting it roughly. 

"Careful," Jaskier said quietly against Geralt's lips, cradling his precious package to his chest. "This was expensive." 

Geralt made a dark noise which once might have frightened Jaskier, but now made him smile, pressing the pad of his thumb to Geralt's bottom lip. 

"Come join me on the bed." Jaskier smiled invitingly as he stood. "Once you're done with," he gestured around himself "... all of this." 

\--

From the moment Jaskier slid a knee onto the bed, Geralt was upon him, his body pinning Jaskier with a delicious weight. 

"I love your artlessness," Jaskier murmured as Geralt's fingers fumbled with the laces at the front of Jaskier's trousers. 

"You want me to stop?" 

"N-no," Jaskier stuttered as Geralt shoved down his pants and licked a stripe up his bare cock, swirling his tongue thickly around the weeping head. "By all means, continue. We have all night-" The rest of the thought was lost as Geralt sank his mouth down Jaskier's hardness, enveloping him the slick, tight, heat of Geralt's throat. Geralt sucked Jaskier with hungry noises, making Jaskier’s thighs tremble and his fingers tangle in Geralt’s hair as he moaned endearments into his fist. 

Jaskier came embarrassingly soon after that. 

Geralt continued mouthing at Jaskier's softening cock until Jaskier pushed away with a whine, watching as Geralt leaned back on his haunches, licking his lips with a satisfied expression. "You'll be the death of me," Jaskier said weakly, struggling to prop himself up by his elbows. 

The infuriating man had not even taken off his pants, his erection tenting the fly in a painful-looking manner. Jaskier crawled to kneel between Geralt's spread thighs, bonelessly flopping his weight against Geralt's chest and pulling him into a kiss. Geralt tasted of wine and Jaskier's spend, an intoxicating combination Jaskier was happy to spend the rest of the night exploring. He began petting his way up Geralt's thighs as he was distracted, hooking his fingers under the waistband of Geralt's trousers, feeling the jump of Geralt's abdominal muscles against his knuckles. 

"Would you like to see what I procured on my adventures today?" Jaskier whispered between hungry kisses. 

"So long as it's not a venereal disease," Geralt said, stretching out on the length of the bed as Jaskier turned away to retrieve his package. 

"Utterly artless," Jaskier turned back in time to catch one of Geralt's rare, soft smiles flicker across his face. At times like these, Jaskier wished that his fingers were gifted in the art of paint in the stead of song, so that he could immortalize each of these precious occurrences and hang them above his mantlepiece for comfort in his old age. Alas, all he had was his inconstant memory. 

From the velvet satchel, Jaskier drew out a metallic cord. It shimmered copper under the firelight, was only as thick as Jaskier's smallest finger, and felt slick and cool as it slithered through his palm.

Geralt looked apprehensive, his gaze flickering from the cord to Jaskier's face. "This is mage-craft," he murmured. 

Indeed it was, and a pretty penny as well. Fortunately, Jaskier did not have much love for his great-aunt, and the same sentimental value for the ring she had bequeathed upon him in her will. "See," Jaskier said, as he wrapped the cord around one of his wrists tightly, holding both loose ends in the other hand. "Pull it," he told Geralt. 

Dutifully, Geralt hooked a finger between the cord and Jaskier's wrist, tugging firmly. There was no give. 

"Asunder," Jaskier said, and the cord broke in twain, the two halves snaking off of his wrist and falling to the bed before snapping together once more to make a whole, unbroken loop. 

"Cute trick," Geralt muttered, but he had not lost his erection, which Jaskier deemed promising.

\--

"Test it." 

Geralt, his hands tied above his head to the headboard, rolled his eyes. "Asunder," he said, and the cord broke, almost slithering behind the bed before Jaskier managed to lunge forward and snatch it in time. "You know you're going to have to tie it all again," Geralt whispered, his breath hot in Jaskier's ear. 

"Hey, I'm just being cautious," Jaskier said, feeling flustered though he had had his cock in Geralt’s mouth not twenty minutes past. 

"This is not the first time I've been tied up in bed," Geralt said easily, offering his wrists to Jaskier. 

"Definitely saving _that_ question for later," Jaskier muttered, as he applied himself to the slipknots he'd learned from a cousin when he was in short pants. 

Jaskier leaned back and admired his work. Geralt was a pretty picture, leaning against the headboard with a smirk, his thighs splayed open and the firelight flickering golden against his skin. From the rubbing Jaskier had given him (intentionally and unintentionally) while tying him up, Geralt’s cock had filled to attention, flushed pink and arching towards his abdomen. Ah, the painting this would make ...

"Here's the game," Jaskier said, wearing what he hoped was his most seductive smile as he crawled over Geralt's body. "I will touch you, and kiss you, and ride you as much as you wish, and when you don't want anymore ..." he placed a kiss on one of Geralt's bound wrists. "Just say the word." 

A look of understanding flashed across Geralt's eyes.

"I promise," Jaskier said seriously. "Only as much as you want." 

Geralt glanced away, then gave a short, jerky nod. 

Jaskier framed Geralt's face in his hands and kissed him deeply. Geralt shuddered, then melted into it, opening his thighs for Jaskier to settle between. Jaskier took the hint and folded his hand around Geralt's comfortable girth, licking Geralt's groans from his lips as he began to stroke. 

Jaskier felt Geralt harden further, continuing his movements as his mouth began making its way down Geralt's body - biting its way down the curve of his neck and feathering kisses across his sensitive ribs. Geralt's stomach flinched under Jaskier's tongue, and he arched when Jaskier pressed a kiss to the delicious 'v' between his hip bones, just under the navel and above the dusting of white hair at the base of his cock. 

"Use your words," Jaskier said playfully, pressing his cheek to Geralt's stomach as he batted his eyelashes up at him. 

"Suck my prick, Jaskier," Geralt said through gritted teeth.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Jaskier happily sat back on his haunches, giving thanks for the spread before him. The spread of Geralt's legs, of course. 

It was actually a boon that Geralt had sucked him off first, because Jaskier could now take all the time in the world to focus on the filthiest, sloppiest and slowest blowjob he had ever lavished upon a man's cock. 

Soon Geralt was panting, his fingers digging grooves in the wooden headboard as he struggled not to fuck Jaskier's throat. Jaskier pulled off, wiping his mouth with his wrist. 

"Just say the word," he said hoarsely.

Geralt scowled at Jaskier and took a deep breath through his nose. 

Jaskier grinned, "Great." 

They had played around with Geralt on the receiving end once before - Jaskier slipping a finger into him while sucking his cock. Geralt had reacted promisingly, but then they both discovered how much Jaskier adored being fucked by Geralt and the point was moot. 

Tonight, however, Jaskier was happy to be generous, slowly massaging the oil around Geralt's hole until he softened, letting Jaskier slip a finger into that tight clench. Geralt's cock jumped against his stomach, oozing pre-cum when Jaskier crooked his finger. Jaskier quickly added two, then three, and soon Geralt was muttering curses, his body in a perfect, taut arch as he screwed himself down onto Jaskier's fingers.

Jaskier bit his lip as his cock gave a half-hearted jump. He may have to reconsider his choice of positions. This could not be the last time he saw Geralt come apart like this.

"Wait," Geralt panted, and Jaskier slowly withdrew his fingers. 

"Are you alright?" Jaskier asked, "Did I hurt you?" 

"No," Geralt thumped the back of his head against the wall. His chest was heaving, his thighs twitching as he dug his toes into the mattress. "I just need a minute." 

"As long as you need," Jaskier said, palming himself. He thought that he would ride Geralt soft, but his refractory period was shorter than he anticipated and Jaskier found that his sore and sensitive cock had taken an interest in the proceedings once more. With a dribble of oil over his fingers, he reached behind himself and made a show of stretching his hole.

Geralt's eyes heated as he watched Jaskier prepare himself. "Why?" he asked softly. 

_Because I love you, and want to show you this world of pleasure you were always denied._

"I want to see your face when you come," Jaskier said, as he slung a leg over Geralt's hip and straddled him. "If it's foolish, I will make jest of you." He pressed Geralt into a kiss before he could ask any more questions, not quite ready to share the enormity of what was slamming against his chest. Aligning this hold with the top of Geralt's bobbing cock, Jaskier began to push down.

Geralt had already denied himself twice, and his body remembered. Before Jaskier had even reached the base of his cock, Geralt was growling against Jaskier's lips, his hips jerking greedily and punching the air from Jaskier’s lungs. 

Jaskier was in heaven too, the stretch and burn of Geralt's thickness was so good he almost forgot his purpose. He rolled his hips and was rewarded with an answering hitch in Geralt's breath. They settled into a hungry rhythm, the headboard creaking under Jaskier's hands and the mattress whining under his knees. 

"Asunder," Geralt whispered harshly, and Jaskier froze, only to hear the _sss_ of the cord slipping away and feel the bruising grip of Geralt's hands, grinding Jaskier’s ass down onto Geralt's cock as he gave two last pumps and came with a deep groan. 

Jaskier clenched his thighs around Geralt’s shuddering body, pumping his cock quickly to the picture Geralt made, sprawled on the bed with a look of wonder and deep contentment on his face. 

That one. _That_ was the picture Jaskier would immortalize if he were a painter.

**Author's Note:**

> my [tumblr](https://greyduckgreygoose.tumblr.com/tagged/myfic)


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